


Behind Shades

by Fangu



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, F/M, Romance, Turkfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-08
Updated: 2012-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangu/pseuds/Fangu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lost and full of heartache Tifa takes a hike - and finds comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Shades

**Author's Note:**

> Please beware that English is my second language - my first language is Norwegian. So if badly structures sentences and repetitiveness makes you cringe, I'd advice you to stay clear of this one. However I promise you there is some sort of plot buried in this mess to make up for it ;)
> 
> Also - Tifa crying like that is probably a little OOC. The point was to have her be so heartbroken about Cloud's final leaving she was crying without being able to control it at all. Basically her life has been devoted to one man and she now realizes it's probably gone forever. A lot of sane girls will do insanely stupid things to keep that one man they believe is the only one they can ever be with.

Dried up twigs snapped beneath Tifa’s army boots as she heavily placed one foot in front of the other, the afternoon heat hitting her like a wall. She didn’t really know how she’d ended up here in the outskirts of Midgar. Or, she knew she’d walked up here on her own two feet, but she didn’t really know what had made her do it.

She’d been cleaning the shelves behind the bar when her foot had slipped and she’d taken a fall to the floor, taking several beer glasses with her. They’d made a large smashing sound as they’d hit the floor; there was shattered glass everywhere, and she’d hurt her elbow and knee in the fall. She was already exhausted from insomnia and just generally being worn out, and the fall had tipped her over the edge – made her furious, mad, but also desperately sad. She wanted to tear down the rest of the bar and scream at the same time, but that was something she’d never go ahead and actually do. Instead she’d gotten up on her feet, put her boots on, walked determined out the front door and slammed it shut. Then she’d just started walking. And she’d kept walking, one foot after the other, not knowing where she was heading.

It had been one of those excruciating hot summers, making Edge smell like an unpleasant mix of melted asphalt, sewers and sweat – because of the heat, there had been several problems with dried up wells all over Midgar, and the water shortage had resulted in having to ration the little water that was left, which for Tifa practically meant less water for both the bar and for personal use. She’d taken a shower that same morning, but now that pebbles of sweat were running down her back, she didn’t really know why she’d bothered.

Quite frankly, she didn’t know why she bothered with anything anymore. She didn’t feel like she was living; she merely existed, and the reason she hadn’t vaporized off the face of the earth completely was because of Marlene and Denzel. She had lost weight, and her sleep, and she didn’t like what she saw in the mirror anymore. She, who could easily spend hours in front of the mirror, now only caught a glimpse of herself in it two times a day: The first time when she got up way before sunrise, and then again right before she went to bed, which she did only to toss around in her sleep for a couple of hours before finally falling into an uneasy rest – hovering right under the surface of awakeness, until her alarm rang and she got up to do the same thing all over again.

She survived on strong, black coffee plus the fact that her body remembered which motion followed the next. If she gave a customer a drink, her hand reached out for the gil. If she was cutting up a vegetable, her hands knew the cut pieces belonged in the bowl beside her. If she took a step with her left foot, the right one followed.

Cloud was gone.

One last time she’d begged him to stay, her behavior changing from pleading to angry then back to pleading again, but the end result was the same as it always was; a half-hearted excuse, followed by excuses for his excuse, and then silence, his eyes glued to the floor. She’d played all her cards: The bar, their customers, Barret, Denzel, Marlene – ending in what really was her weakest cards but always seemed to be the one she pulled last in the hope that it would matter this time: Herself.

She’d been sobbing frantically as he’d left almost in a hurry, like he was afraid she would try to hold him back by sheer force. And who was to say she wouldn’t have tried to - she would have done anything to make him stay.

But now he was gone. Tifa knew there was a slight chance he would be back in a few weeks, but what did it matter. Even if he did come back or not, she felt stuck in a worm hole unable to get out, and only Cloud could pull her out of it. Cloud that was her soul, her life, her purpose. If Cloud didn’t want her, her life had no meaning. They’d been through so much together. Who else could understand her like Cloud? And now he’d left her. Again.

The angry Midgar sun was burning her skin to pieces. It felt like Ifrit herself had decided to finish off Tifa herself right there and then, ending her misery. But Tifa didn’t care about the sunburn, or the sand getting into her shoes and clothes, or the fact that her throat felt like sandpaper. Her eyes were still watering up no matter how dry and hot it was. That one precious resource Midgar was screaming for, she was just shedding away like waste.

How did it come to this? What did she do to deserve to have this misery placed upon her?

With thoughts like that spinning around in her head, she suddenly she came aware of a noise behind her – soft like a whisper through a mintleaf bush. Chances were high it was just a lizard, so she didn’t even bother to stop to check it out. The next thing that happened was a sucking sound approaching her from behind, fast, way too fast for her to react, and she was hit in the back with a major force, beating her face down into the hot sand. Something heavy was on top of her, screaming.

For a split second she wanted to give up everything. Just lie there and let herself be eaten by whatever this monster was. Then she saw the kids’ faces flash before her, and she grabbed for the materia she’d hidden in the lining of her short leather skirt. As she was about to reach the little colorful ball, the monster trampled her upper back, pressing her down into the sand even harder.

Quickly she managed to twist her body enough to reach the materia with her other hand, and cast it. The monster shrieked and got off her, and in a heartbeat she’d twisted and jumped back to her feet. It was a large, fish-like fire demon, obviously a very hungry one. She went for a new spell, only to realize that the materia she was holding had ran out of juice. As the monster was lunging at her again, she loosened another ball of the shining material and cast it. The beast shrieked, but didn’t look particularly wounded. _Fuck_. _Fire materia._ It was all she had left, and this demon was fire based. Tifa didn’t have any choice but to fight it with her fists.

Without wasting too much time thinking it over, she lashed forward unleashing a series of kicks. The monster fought back but didn’t seem as strong now that its opponent was kicking back, and it didn’t take long until the beast vaporized into thin air. Even though the monster went down without much trouble, the fight still had taken its toll on Tifa. She crouched down, resting her hands on her knees, panting heavily. Her throat felt drier than ever and she was feeling slightly dizzy.

The panting led to sobs, which led to crying, which led to screaming. Her frustration was finally coming undone, her shrieks echoing off the ruins nearby.

She screamed until her throat was sore and she couldn’t scream any longer. Now she was crying, more of her tears disappearing into the sand, immediately sucked up as if they’d never existed. The hot air hurt her throat as she gasped, feeling as though the helplessness was about to eat her up like that monster would have liked to; eat her, chew her and spit out the remains. She just felt so completely miserable, so completey _sad_ , like there was nothing in the world that could ever comfort her.

It was then another presence caught her attention. So she was going to have to fight another of those beasts out here in no mans-land. What would run out first; beasts, or her stamina?

But this presence was different. Powerful, yes, but it didn’t give off any monster vibes. She turned to her right, still sobbing. A dark blue size of a man was standing in the shade created by a large concrete ruin.

Three things she realized rapidly: One, as she’d expected: This was a man, not a monster. Two, he was standing still and didn’t look as if he would be danger. Three, she recognized the suit. It was a Turk. And not any Turk, it was a Turk she’d both seen and fought several times.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rude” she yelled. It came out thinner than she’d intended.

The blue shape took his time to answer. “Need any help?”

She laughed and was about to come back with a snarky reply, but every will to fight seemed to had left her. She really was a pathetic and helpless piece of human being, she couldn’t do anything. And with that thought she was back to crying again.

“Go away”, she shrilled.

But he didn’t move. Why couldn’t he just get lost? She wanted to be alone. This crying attack probably wouldn’t be done for some time, and until it was, she needed her space.

“Your leg is bleeding and you’re exhausted”, the man in the shade spoke. “I have Cure and some water.” Even before she had time to ask, he answered the question for her: “The Turks see Sephiroth’s defeaters as valuable resources.” So, this was purely business to him. This made her relax a little.

But Tifa still didn’t move. After a little while he said softer: “Sit down. You look like you need it.”

Tifa hadn’t noticed the injured leg, but he was quite right; it was bleeding quite freely. Looking over at Rude, she decided a Cure and some water wouldn’t be that bad. The heat was making her head spin, maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly. After all she was walking around in a monster heavy area with just one working materia, even considering letting down Cure and water when she obviously needed it. This was not the decision making of a sane person for sure.

She walked over to Rude and saw he was sitting on some sort of concrete wall, a leftover from the ruins. As she approached him, she wiped her tears and greeted him with a nod. He had his usual calm appearance, which also included dark skin, a tie well knotted, a sharp looking suit and his trademark sunshades on.

She sat down on the little wall. She kept silent.

Rude handed her a bottle of water and pulled out a tiny ball of strong Cure materia. He slowly moved closer to her, as she’d left quite a gap between them he had to fill to reach her. As Tifa drank the water, he cast the spell, and they both watched the wound close slowly. For fighters like themselves it was always a curious thing to see. Their bodies were somehow like tools to them, like the materia.

Neither of them spoke for the longest time. Rude had probably expected her to get up and leave by now, but for some reason she stayed put.

“Thanks”, she said eventually. And then, “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Patrolling”, he said. “The monsters are destroying power equipment. Since the water shortage they’ve gotten nastier.”

Tifa nodded.

“So… are you facing difficulties?” he asked.

‘Facing difficulties’. Her inner voice laughed. Rude always has a straight way of putting things. She scoffed. “Yeah, sort of.”

When she didn’t continue to elaborate, Rude went on to what he rightfully believed to be a different subject. “We believe part of the increase in monster activity is related to Cloud being gone. When will he be back?”

‘When he’ll be back’. Because Cloud would never leave her for good, now would he. Cloud was the country boy turned hero, the savior of Midgar. Cloud would never do anything wrong.

Suddenly Tifa felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She was back in the worm hole, trapped, not being able to get out. Cure and water hadn’t left her feeling refreshed; it had given her new energy to be miserable.

She couldn’t help it. She burst out in tears again. It was so sudden that Rude jumped a little, like he’d just heard an animal suddenly cry out. She could sense he was looking at her, but he did nothing; he probably didn’t know what to do or say anyway.

“Tifa.” Hearing him say her name left a strange taste in her mouth, like it was a strange and exotic food she was trying for the first time. She knew Rude had always been careful around her as if he had a preference for her, but she never believed it to be more than a physical attraction – maybe as much as a slight crush, but nothing more. She’d had hundreds of guys talking interest in her like that, so it wasn’t anything new to her. But the way he was saying her name now somehow suggested it was more than a biologically based pull. There was care in it.

He spoke in a soft voice, “I’m sure whatever troubles you’re having, they can be worked out.”

“He left!” She shrieked. “He left, and you know what? He’s not coming back! Which leaves me stuck with a business establishment and two kids” – she sobbed and gasped – “…of which one is a teenager acting out and I don’t know if I can help him, and what if I get sick?” More sobs.

Rude turned his head so he was facing the ground. “I see.” Whatever else thoughts he was having at the moment, he didn’t say.

“I’m stuck in this hell hole, with monsters and burglars and barely enough water to wash up once a week, and the only person who believed in me is gone. I don’t know what to do.” She sobbed again, “I don’t know what to do.”

Silence fell. Then Rude turned to her. “What exactly did Cloud do at the bar?”

She sobbed again. “What?”

“Well, from what I know about your business – and as a Turk it’s my job to know the basics of the Midgar businesses – Cloud handled the purchases. The rest of the time he did deliveries, no?”

“Yes,” Tifa answered.

“So, from what I gather, it’s really been you handling the business by yourself all along. All Cloud did was bring in a case of groceries a couple of times a week. There are people in Edge who does that for a reasonable fare.”

Tifa slowly chewed on this piece of information. Was he right? Hadn’t Cloud done more than that? Well not… technically, but it had been their business. They planned it out together, picked out the suitable building together, decided on the menu together. Or, he’d suggested a lot, but she with her barmaid experience had settled on which dishes was easy and fast to produce. But he supported everything she did. He helped her out.

“But it was our bar”, she replied. “His and mine.”

Rude smiled. “But you did all the work. So what’s so different now you can’t keep doing what you’ve always done?” He focused his shades down at his shoes, as to show her he wasn’t expecting a reply.

Tifa didn’t reply. But she was finally calming down. Her crying was now reduced to minor sobs, and she dried away her tears with the back of her hands, laughing a little in between wipes. "Look at me, I'm such a fucking wet blanket". Rudes shades were now directed towards her again, his lips forming a smile. "Don't worry about it.”

She looked at him, at his sunglasses. "I should be wearing those, not you", she giggled slightly and wiped her eyes again. He paused for a heartbeat, then reached up, removed his glasses revealing his dark brown eyes - Tifa had barely seen them before, were they always that brown? - and held the glasses out to her. She paused, looked at him in astonishment, then took the glasses slowly, paused for a second, and then placed them carefully on the bridge of her nose, running her hair through her fingers so it fell into place covering the frame of the glasses.

With everything now comfortably nice and dark instead of shriekingly light, she looked at him. He didn't say anything, except for a small hum which told her he approved. She now saw his eyes, but he couldn't see hers - and she all of a sudden felt secretive, confident. As she kept looking at him, he instinctively yielded and looked away, his action well camouflaged of being just looking away, but she’d seen it in his eyes. The power she knew she had over him was revealing its presence, and she liked it.

Tifa sighed and sat back, the afternoon sun slowly burning away on her bare thighs. Rude focused his eyes towards something in the far horizon, saying nothing, just sitting there, a quiet confidant to her grief. As her crying had ceased and she'd calmed down a bit, she was noticing his presence in a new way. He had quite a large frame, and she'd always known he was a tall guy, but he'd always just been that - a tall man in dark shades that barely spoke to her. Heck, he'd probably said more to her during the last fifteen minutes than the entire time they'd spent together at all prior to this. And she'd never really been alone with him before either, not like this, not out in the outskirts of Midgar, several clicks away from other human beings.

Behind the shades, she glanced at him. Tall, yes, but also quite muscular - his back was broad and his waist small, and she imagined he was quite fit and toned - wait, what was she doing? Was she really pondering over how this large, quiet Turk looked like beneath his layers of clothes? The sun must have gotten to her head, or the crying emptied her for oxygen - or, she thought, what was really so strange with thinking things like this? If Rude had been female, she might have thought the exact same thing. She was sizing up a fellow fighter. It was purely an observation; she knew muscles and what they did to a persons shape. There was nothing strange in taking interest in him like this.

Still, she knew she was deceiving herself. Her eyes sought his arms, relaxed with his elbows steadied on his thighs; relaxed, but still revealing trained triceps pressing at the fabric of his suit.

She said nothing, sat still; warmth on her legs, Rude beside her... and a slow, tingling feeling suddenly erupting in her lower abdomen.

It must be the power trip. It was the shades. It was exhaustion. It was Cloud leaving, her heartache, her sadness that did this. She obviously craved a substitute, or just some attention. She could never use Rude for her own personal gain. She'd break his heart in an instance. Seeking his attention now would be horribly wrong of her.

Still, he was a big boy, wasn't he? And people got hurt by these things, that’s just how it goes. All you really could wish for were a few moments of happiness - like she'd had with Cloud.

Ah, Cloud.

That bastard no good for his word-Cloud.

"Fuck Cloud", she said out loud, without having planned to. It took some time before Rude turned to her, as if he was deep in thoughts as well. "Hmm?" he replied, and then after a little while: "…yeah." He focused back on the horizon. "You'll do fine without him. Maybe not at first. But eventually."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shrugged. "That's how it goes."

She wanted to ask him how he knew about things like this, what he’d experienced that made him so sure that things would work themselves out. But she couldn’t seem to form the question. Three times she was about to open her mouth, but every time she was about to speak, the words sort of tripped on her tongue before she could utter a word. She’d never been much of a talker.

Cloud had never been a talker either.

Silence fell again.

They were still there. Just sitting there together on the concrete wall.

Tifa was now beginning to feel a hint of stress. She had too many new and unchewed thoughts flying around in her head, and what she usually did when that happened, was to vent it out through practicing her martial arts. Normally it didn’t have to come to that as she was usually running around at the bar doing stuff anyway. But to sit and wait to let thoughts get ripe enough to enlighten her was never her thing.

And then there was this tingling in her body she’d tried to deny while sitting there staring at Rude’s arms. _This is somehow all related, isn’t it_ , she thought. He was still here. She knew he found her attractive. He would probably not say no. And as she was thinking about it, the thought became more and more tempting. How long had it been since the last time with Cloud? Weeks, maybe months. And the last times had been so… uninspired. Like his head had been somewhere else. Rude was different. Even sitting here, he was so present, taking interest in everything she said and did.

Okay, so she admitted it; getting it on with Rude would perhaps not be such a bad idea. She'd always put off thoughts of being with anyone else because her entire romantic life had been about Cloud, but with Rude particularly because she’d always found him a little bit freaky. That wall had been torn down today. She was now more curious than scared.

She wondered what he smelt like, and wished she could lean into him to find out. He was always so correctly dressed and clean, even during battle she'd never smelled even a hint of sweat. (Reno, though, was another story.) All she could do now was sit here, imagining what he smelt like; she couldn't possibly bring herself to take initiative to anything at all, and it was stressing her out. She shifted uneasily on the hard concrete, trying to switch her position to make the built up stickiness she felt between her legs magically disappear.

"You want to practice a little or something?" he asked, having noticed her unsettling motion. She froze up a little, "...naw. No. It's still too hot", she added. He nodded.

"You can leave if you want to", she said. She didn't know why she said it, when in fact she didn’t want him to leave at all. Maybe it was to put a needle in the balloon and end this ridiculous train of thoughts she all of a sudden seemed to be having. He turned again, smiling, his left eye looking at her - "no that's fine. I still have time."

She now felt like a twelve year old, wanting to kick her feet in the air from frustration. She was hot. She had an irritating tingle in her body. She knew she could solve this with a good fight, but she couldn't bring herself to ask again for an offer she had just turned down, and anyway, it wasn’t really what she wanted. She wished she was drunk, or stoned; then she would have had the courage to get out of this situation either by throwing a tantrum and running away - or throwing herself at him, which seemed like such a strange, but now increasingly interesting option.

Instead she acted not twelve, but closer to fifteen, and started moaning. "Why is everything so fucked up?!" The increased volume in her voice had him turn towards her more than he had before -- "just... just, FUCK!"

He looked down at her leg. “We never took care of those blood stains”, he said, and pulled out another little bottle of water. She wondered how many of those he could hide under his suit, because he probably had a lot of explosives hidden under there as well. He has a lot of things going on under that suit, she thought, and wondered what other curiosities was under there…

He grabbed her leg by the ankle, lifted it and placed it on his thigh. His very large and firm thigh. She swallowed and wondering if she could ask him to spare some of that water, but all of her words were now not only trapped on her tongue, but in her throat. She watched as he poured water over her leg and used his hand to rinse the blood off. And he made sure all of the blood was washed off. He even let his hand run down the back of her leg.

She swallowed. Rude looked at her – dark, dark brown eyes, soothing and shaded, warm, not piercing blue like Clouds… _no stop thinking about Cloud, Cloud isn’t here_ – shouldn’t she be ashamed for not caring more about Cloud? _He could be laying hurt in a ditch somewhere_ – and now Rude was striking the backside of her leg again, her heart pounding in her chest…

“Okay like this?” he asked, and she knew there was an intentional double meaning to his words. It was now or never, and she knew she’d already decided. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him, wanted his hands on her, wanted to reveal what was underneath that steel blue suit.

She couldn’t answer; she didn’t know what to say.

What then came to pass happened so slow it was like she could feel her every heartbeat shoot out through her chest. He placed his large hand on her knee, tan against her light skin, the warmth of it burning her much more than the sun had done before. He didn't look at her at first, and when he did, his eyes were dark and heavy, as in a dreamlike state. Seconds passed. It felt like minutes. Tifa didn't move, but she didn't tell him to remove his hand either.

He was trying to figure out what she felt about this, she could see that. With his shades covering her eyes it must be hard for him to figure out whether she was enjoying it or if she was seconds from kicking him in the face. She didn't really know what to tell him, didn't know what to do, except wait. It was like she'd been Petrified and was waiting for him to throw her a Remedy of some sorts - but it felt like he was hitting her with a totally different spell when he let his hand slid further up her thigh. His touch was slow, testing, and surprisingly seductional compared to how she would have imagined Rude to move his big hands.

When his hand reached the edge of her skirt, it was like her body came back to life. Blood poured through her veins, reaching delightful places in her body, pounding her at the right places. “Don’t stop”, she finally managed to whisper, so low she was worried she’d have to repeat it for him to hear.

He looked at her, his face so open, eyes dark, lips smiling revealing white teeth, and she felt dizzy as his hands were now sliding suggestively under the edge of her skirt. She moved towards him, placing her thigh over his, leaning into him, letting her breast touch his arms; breathing heavily by the sensation of his arm against pressing against her nipple. He kept his eyes locked at her as she leaned into him, her mouth now inches away from his, testingly letting her lips brush against his, her eyes still covered by his glasses.

His breath was heavy and she heard him swallow dryly, and she grinned, wet her tongue and teased his upper lip with soft brushes. He was now shuddering, and it made her hot, a burning sensation shooting down to where her body wanted him the most.

She parted her lips and waited for him, and shortly after she felt his mouth seek hers, firm and wanton. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, seeking hers, and she met him willingly.

She didn’t know why, but she'd never imagined him to be a great kisser. He was now proving her painstakingly wrong. He had the timing, the intuition, and the ability to tease without overdoing it, and she was slowly forgetting everything around them; the fact that they were outdoors sitting on hard concrete merely mattered anymore. She was now tucking her hands inside his suit, feeling his muscular chest, her other hand exploring the feel of his bald head - it was so different from anyone she'd ever touched like this, and it didn't feel strange - it felt good. His neck was broad and strong, and she enjoyed the way it tensed against her hand when he shifted while kissing her.

There was nothing else that mattered in this moment, just savoring it, testing, trying, teasing; sometimes they sped up, sometimes they paused, their mouths warm, their breaths warm, before getting back to it, heat slowly building up between them. At a point their touches became rougher: Rude was now holding one hand at the small of her back, the other teasing her collarbone, occasionally dropping his fingers lower to feel the soft skin above her breasts, letting his fingers glide along her chest. Every time he did that her breath caught and jumped, and she started doing it deliberately to make him keep going. She was now painfully wet; she could feel it, and her nipples had stiffened, her bones were softening, and she moaned into his mouth, convincing him to take it further.

It wasn't long until he placed his hand right under her breast, toying with the edge of her shirt, pulling at it so the fabric tightened against her breast, teasing her. Then he let his hand slowly slide up under her shirt, cupping her breast with his fingers, rubbing his thumb over her nipple, and she moaned shamelessly, shifting her position so her buttocks clenched against his thigh. She wondered if he was hard yet, and she wanted to feel him with her leg to get a feel of what he was like, but in this position she wasn’t able to reach.

After a short while she'd had enough. She wanted to feel his erection, wanted the confirmation. She pulled away from him, staring at him from behind the shades. Rude, eyes narrow and lips slightly pink from the blood at work, gave her an apologetic look. "Too much?" he said huskily, his face a little flushed, his eyes obvious proof she was getting to him. She just grinned, rose to her feet and took a step to stand between his legs, pushing his chest as to tell him to move further in, and he did - then she straddled him, her bare knees against the rough concrete.

And ah, yes, her body lowered on his, she could feel a very hard - and rather large - she had to catch her breath – erection swelling against her damp panties, and she grinded on him a little, his face coming undone and a deep moan escaping his lips.

He looked up at her, searching her face, and he clearly wanted more of her; but not necessarily the type of _more_ she would first and foremost had guessed in a situation like this. "Let me see your eyes" he almost whispered. Tifa thought she didn't really have anything more to hide, he'd now seen all there was to see, and she trusted him. She slowly removed the sunglasses, putting them down on the concrete.  She turned back to look at his face, into his eyes, and she could see he really wanted everything he saw. He was looking at her like she was a wonder just fallen from the sky, and it had the blood boiling inside of her – and she was full of want. Whatever this was, she was taking it.

That was it; there was no question what was going to happen next. Any second thoughts she would have had was gone, and shortly after, so was Tifas top; Rudes mouth closing around her nipples, she tugging at his jacket and tie, his shirt coming off surprisingly in once piece, revealing a desirable upper body. There was touching, moaning, groaning, panting - she had a hand down his pants closing around a very hard cock, making her smirk sheepishly, Rude growling into her throat - and Tifa was all of a sudden out of patience; she needed him now, and with some rearrangements of her clothes and some pulling on his, she gasped loud as she lowered herself onto him.

Rudes moan was savage and for a moment it had her believing he was done for already. But he was still hard inside her, and she started moving, his cock filling her enough to make her breath catch every time she slid down on him. Rude closed his eyes, the muscles on his forehead tight, his head arched back. At times he looked like he was almost in pain, but Gods, he clearly was not, and her skin prickled with every move she made, the air almost too thin - where had the oxygen gone? – it was like her ears were drumming and her head was thick and her brain emptied for all rational though.

Rude warned her a couple of times, at which she did slow down; sometimes she even stilled and focused on kissing him instead – kisses that turned out sloppy and badly timed and even a little stupid. But in the end she wanted him to come and she wanted to see it - her orgasm was too hard to reach like this, she knew that. That fact didn't make the fucking less ecstatic at all; she was already seeing stars, feeling filled and complete and flushed with sensation. For his next attempt of slowing her she simply ignored his wishes of prolonging her pleasure, firmly grabbing his wrists and keeping his hands away from stilling her; and she was hot and content when she heard and saw him tense up; his whole body hardening, his breath going out of beat, voice whimpering, his cock stiffening that extra inside her - and then he came, long, hard and savage, while she rode him off, squeezing the last bit of sanity out of him. As he finally finished his voice was strangled and his breath ragged, and she bent over him and moaned sweetly in his ear, comforting him with soft kisses on his earlobe and his neck.

"Mmm", she said, smiling, as she planted yet another kiss on his collarbone, finally taking the time to caress his chest and shoulders properly. She liked what she saw and what she was touching: Tan, thick skin pulled over tight muscles, the occasional scarring but nothing too scary or overwhelming.

He'd obviously been far away, because it took yet another moment until he looked at her, eyes slightly smiling at her. It was like he was searching for the right words, but coming up with none. All he could bring himself to do was to raise one hand and tuck her hair behind her ear, repeating the motion even though the hair was already in place, all the while looking at her, studying her face, his eyes dazed.

Eventually she had to move, and they pulled apart to find the clothes that actually had come off and put them back in place. Rude was doing his tie as Tifa secured her last piece of clothing and sat back to watch him. There was something calming about the whole situation, even though she knew she'd just burned bridges that could never be rebuilt. She was still sad, and she didn't really know if she was regretting this or not - but for now, watching Rude tie his tie – it was all she really wanted.

They didn't speak much, and soon they were standing up facing each other, fully clothed, her face a little flushed, his shirt a little out of place. "Your sunglasses," she said, leaning over to fetch them, handing them over to him. He studied them for a moment, then he put them back on, suddenly yet again looking like the Rude she was familiar with seeing. But now it was like she could see behind those shades, somehow. It was a new feeling regarding his character and a bit strange, but it gave her a warm feeling.

"Right", he said, straightening his cuffs, looking at her.

She gave him a flirtatious smile. "…yeah."

"I'll, uh... come by. Reno gets thirsty."

"Yeah," she repeated, kicking a pebble with her shoe and then looking back at him. "Wouldn't want you leaving your money with my competition."

That drew a smile out of him - a real smile, which he quickly put out like a suddenly discovered fire. This made her feel incredibly smug, in a weird mix with safe - even calm. She lifted her hand and did a small wave, then turned, keeping her eyes on him for as long as she could, before finally turning her head away around, walking away, fingers tied behind her back, giggling to herself as her hips sort of swayed as of their own will.

She couldn't help but listen for sounds of footsteps walking the other way behind her, but for as long as she kept walking, there was no sound but the distant humming noise from the city.


End file.
